CHAPTER FIVE
1289 Words
I poke my head through the small hole I created in my doorway, my eyes darting nervously around the hallway. What am I looking for exactly? I'm not sure. After I fled from the handsome devil's room last night, I expected to be dragged back. But I wasn't, and I couldn't be more grateful he didn't force me to return and consummate our deal. The memory of his touch, both terrifying and thrilling, sends a shiver down my spine.
It's now four o'clock in the evening. Other than the maid who brought my food and the stoic guard posted at my door, I haven't seen another living soul. The isolation is starting to gnaw at me, leaving me feeling hollow and on edge. I'm a cocktail of emotions - bored, worried, anxious, and confused all at once. My mind keeps replaying last night's events on an endless loop, leaving me restless and desperate for any kind of distraction.
That's why I find myself peeking out of my door frame, hoping to catch a moment when my guard might take a break. I need to explore this mansion to understand where I am and maybe, just maybe, find a way out. But more than that, I need something – anything – to take my mind off what happened last night and how my body reacted to being touched by the devil. I've hated men's touch because of him. I've never had a boyfriend in my twenty-three years of life, but yesterday, I didn't recoil. I even defied the devil so he would touch me more. None of it makes sense, and the confusion is eating me alive.
I slowly step out of my room, forcing a smile at my guard. The hallway stretches out before me, a maze of luxury and danger. My heart races with a mix of fear and excitement at the prospect of exploration.
"Well, hello there," a voice suddenly booms in the hallway, making me jump. I turn to find a handsome man with a boxer's build that his expensive-looking suit does little to hide. A small smile plays on his face. I stare at him, wondering who he is and noticing that even though he's handsome, he doesn't compare to the devil from last night.
The guard bows his head at him, and the newcomer says something in Spanish which has the guard leaving. My curiosity about this man's identity grows.
"You must be the wrong sister," he says, moving closer to me. "I am Julio, Rafael's second in command." He outstretches his hand, and I stare at it for a second too long before taking it in mine.
"Francesca, or Franky for short," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You're more beautiful than he described," Julio says, letting go of my hand. I wonder who 'he' is, but don't ask, knowing my place in this dangerous world.
"Come, we don't want to keep him waiting," he says and turns around. My heart begins to race even faster. Who are we going to see? The handsome devil from last night? My palms grow clammy, and I wipe them discreetly on my dress.
With each step, memories of last night flash through my mind - his touch, my unexpected reactions. I'm torn between fear and a confusing anticipation. What if he wants to continue what we started? Do I want that? The conflict in my mind makes me dizzy.
I try to focus on my surroundings, hoping to find some clue about where I am or a potential escape route. But my mind keeps circling back to the man I'm about to face. Will he be angry that I ran away? What will he do to me? The uncertainty is almost worse than knowing.
As we walk through the opulent hallways, I'm struck by the contrast between the beauty of my surroundings and the ugliness of my situation. The plush carpets muffle our footsteps, and priceless artwork adorns the walls. It's a gilded cage, and I'm the trapped bird within it.
My heart pounds louder with each step, a mix of fear and something else - something I'm afraid to name. As we approach what I assume is our destination, I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever - or whoever - is on the other side. Julio opens the door, and there he is - the devil himself, behind his desk.
He's dressed in a suit again, a lit cigarette perched between his lips and a glass of amber liquid beside him. My blood instantly chills as a thought runs through my head. Please, God, let me be wrong. Let him not have asked me here to share me with Julio.
"Capo," Julio greets before walking over to take his seat on the couch in the office. I remain frozen by the door, my hands turning clammy with each passing second. The realization that the handsome devil is indeed Rafael hits me like a punch to the gut. I'd guessed it, of course, but I'd prayed I was wrong. I'm starting to wonder if I should have just stayed in my room and dealt with the thoughts I ran away from.
"Come here," Rafael says, his voice filling the room. My breath hitches. I don't move from my spot by the door, but one lift of his brows makes me realize that's a bad idea. I swallow hard and slowly move my feet, each step feeling like I'm lifting a hundred pounds. I walk across the room and stand before his desk, trying my best to control my breathing. Something in me doesn't want him to see my fear, knowing devils like him probably get off on it.
He stares at me intently, and every nerve in my body screams for me to avert my eyes, but I don't. I watch as his gaze travels over my body, taking in the pink sundress I found in the room where I'm being held.
"How much do you think you matter to Thomas?" he suddenly asks, and my breathing hitches because I don't know the answer to that question. I mean a lot to my sister, but that doesn't mean I mean the same to Thomas.
"That's what I thought. You don't mean s**t to him," he says and retrieves something from his drawer. If possible, my breathing stops altogether. "I could shoot you right now. I doubt it would make that black heart of his even clench by mistake," he says, pointing the gun at me.
"I mean a lot to my sister, and she is Thomas' world," I say, trying to use it as a reason for him not to blow my brains out right now.
"That's true, and your death would make her sad, then make him miserable for being the cause of your death. Which just gives me more reason to f*****g kill you."
"I don't understand. Killing me was never an option," I blurt out, confusion overwhelming me.
"That's before I knew you would be a f*****g difficult pet to train," he says, his words making my brows furrow. "Your defiance yesterday, as cute as it is, I don't tolerate such."
I should have known it would come back to bite me in the ass. "I'm sorry. It will never happen again," I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know they're not entirely true. I might have willingly offered myself to be used to his liking, but I'm still human. Some parts of me will still resist.
"Prove it to me. Take off your clothes and f**k yourself till you c*m," he says, and my eyes bulge wide. Did he just f*****g say that?
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